


Just Yanking Your Chain

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [85]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, But Tony Still Acts Like a Child, Crushes, Everybody's legal, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 09:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15312435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: Having a crush on your boss is a bad thing.





	Just Yanking Your Chain

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Pining. Prompt from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).

Having a crush on your boss is a bad thing.

Having a crush on your boss who’s also a world-famous billionaire? Worse.

Having a crush on your boss who happens to be like 25 years older than you? That's fucking tragic.

And right now, that’s Peter Parker’s life. Because the universe has conspired against him to make the most promising opportunity of his life also the most potentially humiliating.

The only good (ish) thing about feeling like you’re 15 again in the workplace is that the big boss acts like that, too, on a pretty regular basis. His first week alone, Peter had heard stories about go kart races in the atrium and keg parties in the executive boardroom and month-long games of Mafia that turned whole floors gleefully jumpy. He took it all with a grain of salt because hey, they were all adults here, adults who were getting _paid_ , and there was no way the same people spent days perfecting one line of code would really act like that, even out here in the Valley. No freaking way.

Except one day, Peter had come in to find a Nerf bow and arrow where his monitor had been and what could he do but join in and play along? He already felt like he stood out, like he was the only one who hadn’t figured out yet how to be California cool. He wasn’t sleek and cool like Lin-Ji or laid back like Anya or hyper locked into to his tech like Zain; he was just a way more well paid version of the guy he’d been at college: Chucks that were a little too big, the occasional zit on his chin, neatly folded t-shirts and the ability to slog through a big project until dawn if he had to. He was, as far as he could see, the least hip person at Stark Industries, and most of the time, that was fine. That was him; he didn’t want to be anyone else.

Until he met Mr. Stark.

Like, in person this time, face-to-face; not that snarky video of him they’d seen during orientation or some required all employees event. Peter didn’t get called up to a meeting or invited to a strategy conference or anything, either--just came back from lunch one day slamming back the last of his Doritos and there was a guy in his chair, at his desk. And that guy was Tony fucking Stark.

“Parker!” Stark said, like they were old friends or something. “There you are. Enjoy your lunch?”

Peter swallowed hard; not so easy around the Cool Ranch. “Um,” he said. “Yes. Yes, I did, sir.”

Stark waved a hand and made a face. “Call me Tony or nothing, please. That _sir_ stuff gives me serious Downton Abbey vibes and you, kiddo, are nobody’s butler.”

“I, uh, ok. Sorry.” Peter stood awkwardly on the edge of his cube. There was no space for him in it, really, not with Stark sitting there, grinning up at Peter like a cat who’d eaten a whole flock of canaries.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Tony said. “You’re leaning on some very formal politeness codes because you're intimidated. I like that. The politeness, I mean. I respect that. Clearly, as they say, somebody raised you right.”

Peter’s face was red. He could feel it. And his tongue felt like lead. So he went for some vigorous nodding instead. “Mmmm,” he managed. “Mmmhmmm.”

“I realize I could’ve just called you upstairs. But I wanted to see where the magic happens, as it were. I wanted to get a sense of where that beautiful brain of yours resides on a day-to-day basis and I have to say, Peter, I’m not wholly impressed. With your decor, that is.”

“My--my?”

“Look at your workspace.” Tony peered around the cube pointedly. “That’s exactly what it looks like, do you get that? A place where you do work.”

“Isn’t that what it is? I mean, it is. The place where I--”

Tony shot up out of the chair, the lines of his charcoal blazer falling perfectly back in line. “Yes, yes, I know--jesus, are you always this literal? What I meant was, it doesn’t look like you’re setting in roots here, kiddo: no pictures, no post-it notes on your monitor, no action figures or retro McDonald’s Happy Meal toys.” He raised his eyebrows. “You planning on leaving us soon, Mr. Parker?”

“What?” Peter’s stomach flipped over. “No! No, of course not. This is the best job I’ve ever had. Ok, it’s like, only the second that doesn’t involve Frappuccinos, but--”

“Hey, hey.” Tony folded a hand over Peter’s shoulder and smiled, a small, genuine thing. “Relax. Relax. I was just teasing. Just yanking your chain, man, ok?”

Peter’s heart was going bullet train already, what with the what the fuck of it all and having Tony touch him, having those surprisingly kind brown eyes turned full blast on his, 100% did not help. He’d seen a lot of pictures of Tony, a lot of bullshit on YouTube, even before he’d taken this job; the guy was hard to avoid. But he couldn’t remember ever thinking _wow_ before, ever seeing Stark on the front page of the paper or the alumni magazine and thinking _hot damn._ Now, though, up close and personal, Peter’s knees were teetering. The man had an energy, an aura or something, that was seriously interesting. And he smelled amazing. And oh god, that smile. All together, being this close to Tony made Peter feel like he’d swallowed lightning. But maybe that was just the Doritos.

“I’m impressed by your work,” Tony said. “That’s what I came down here to tell you. Like, really impressed. And do you know how hard it is to impress me? Extremely.”

“Oh,” Peter said faintly. “That’s--that’s good.”

“So I’m not here to fire you or deliver your performance review at the top of my lungs in front of all of your eavesdropping coworkers, Parker. I mean, that’s what I was going to do--the performance review thing, not the firing--but you look like you’re going to puke and I really like these shoes, so how about we postpone it?

Peter’s head felt like a boomerang. “Um, ok.”

Tony shook him a little and let go. But he didn’t move away. “How about,” he said, “we have dinner tomorrow? In the boardroom. Nothing fancy. Sandwiches, probably. Pep doesn’t get mad when I order sandwiches. There was a thing with lobsters and gazpacho in there once she still hasn’t forgiven me for.” He smiled and this time, Peter did, too. “You come up whenever you’re done for the day and you’ll eat while I talk. How does that sound? Unless you have plans. Do you have plans? I don’t want to be that guy as a boss, the one who makes you break all ties with the world outside of work. I’m a tech god, not a cult leader.”

“No, tomorrow’s fine. It’s fine.”

Tony beamed. “Beautiful. It’s a date. But not in a creepy, let’s-call-Human-Resources way, right? I’ll have Pep send you an invite. And bring your tablet with you, ok?”

“Yep,” Peter said like this was totally normal, like he was not internally freaking the fuck out at all. “Ok.”

His boss nodded, started to moonwalk off the floor. “Great,” he called. “And, uh, Peter?”

“Yes?”

Tony pointed at his chin, gave up a devilish grin. “You’ve got Cool Ranch all over your face.”


End file.
